Dreams of A Masked Phantom
by Silent Masquerade
Summary: Katherine realizes her talents will flourish in the newly rebuilt Opera House. Romance will bring two unlikely people together. Chapter ELEVEN is UP and TWELVE will be up shortly! READ&REVIEW!
1. The Beginning of a Dream

**Author's Note: **

Disclaimer: I do not own the Phantom of the Opera, nor the Opera Populaire... those belong to their respected owners, as you all well know. So basically I don't own much of anything in this story except Katherine and the plot, and maybe a thing or two in the following parts to come. xP

Hello there, everyone! Here is the Beginning of the Beginning, the start of my first-ever **Phan**fiction. I admit that the first chapter is quite mysterious, and may leave you saying, "Okay, what's next?" If it does, Erik says you should review. Even though he hasn't exactly made his appearance in the story yet. Erik pouts in the corner of Author's room

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IT WAS IN AN ODD TWIST OF EVENTS

...that Katherine found herself standing in front of the ever-famous Opera Populaire. Truth be told, she had never expected to be staring at the Opera's magnificence, the place she was now going to call her home. She remembered passing it many times as a young girl, but then it had simply been one of the many "big buildings" in Paris, at least to her.

'_How did it start?_' wondered Katherine, shading her eyes from the sun so she could see well. It was by some unknown force that she had been dragged by, down this very street all winter. She did not understand it, but, being a very big believer in the saying, "All things happen for a reason", she did not question it much further.

'_Oh yes_,' she stumbled upon the memory, finally reminiscing to the faithful day she had first passed the Old Opera House, when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that something was different.

She had taken such a speedy double take, that she had to take another.

The Opera House had been rebuilt!

It had been funded and headed by none other than the Opera Ghost, himself. Katherine did not know that, surely. Over the course of the year following the disastrous falling of the chandelier, the road by the Opera House was blocked, and it had been written in all of the newspapers, **"Opera House Being Rebuilt by Unknown Benefactor"**.

And, as she stared at it that day, she saw that it looked as it always had. And, yet – she squinted – there was something different about it. It had a renewed sort of shine to it, magic that she could not name.

'I wonder how it looks on the inside,' she mused thoughtfully. She took a step towards the House, but something held her back. She knew the place held a story. She was afraid that if she learned of the House's secrets, she may just as well fall in love with the old building, and then be heartbroken when they caught her wandering its mysterious corridors, and threw her out.

She dared not take the risk.

At yet, as she took a last look at the wonder before her, she could have sworn she saw a face look out at her from a high window – a certain masked face.

Katherine had stood there, staring up at this mere shadow, until she finally couldn't bear it and had to blink. In that instant, the face had disappeared.

This had intrigued her more, and she tried to force her feet to move, but they could not. She could not understand why.

"Oy, there!" She heard a man yell and the quick gallop of hoof shook the ground below her. "If you don't move fast, you may be turned into some form of mashed pudding!"

She turned and leaped as fast she could to the other side of the road, out of the direction of the speeding carriage.

"Daydreaming isn't useful when you're standing in the middle of the street!" yelled the driver defiantly.

"Well, that was very kind," she muttered, "it's not a surprise, though. Gentlemen are obviously on the verge of extinction." She huffed, smoothing her skirt and picking up her suitcases. Now safely out of the way of any speeding carriages, she could return to her flashback.

She had returned each day for a month, looking at the Opera House, hoping to see the glimmer she had that day, but it was either faint or non-existent.

She had also not seen the masked face, until…

Katherine picked up her two suitcases, which held her small amount of precious objects and possessions. Her eyes wandered to the Opera House once more, but this time to a window that seemed to show on one side the staircase to the roof.

There, again, she saw the slim shadow of a figure standing, or, perhaps hiding behind a long velvet curtain. An eye could be visible from behind half of a pure, white mask.

She smiled. Shifting her suitcase to her other hand, she waved to the mischievous figure. When she blinked, she was surprised to see that the figure had not disappeared, but instead was waving back.

'Today is the day,' she said to herself, 'that I come to live, perform, and be at the famous Opera Populaire.' She began to walk across the street to the House.

Katherine's dreams were always practical. She was not a young girl anymore that was certain. She had originally sought to become a doctor with an artistic sort of hobby. She did not come from an extremely wealthy family, so she was aware that hard work was to be expected in her life.

But since that first day she had passed by the old-and-yet-knew Opera, a fire burst in her, which she could not comprehend. She began to paint daily, something she used to do only when inspiration struck. She found herself writing more, and singing until her throat got sore, despite the fact she very well knew she sounded like a screeching alley cat during summer nights. Each winter day she had passed by the Opera House with this knowing fire burning in her, and she knew that it was the place where her talents would flourish.

She was not one to waste anything given to her, let alone talents and gifts.

As she reached for the handle of the enormous door, she knew that her previous suspicions had led her to the right place. No matter how foolish and irresponsible it seemed, Katherine knew she at least had to try.

And, with a brave yet feeble step (author winks), Katherine entered the Opera, the place which had haunted her dreams for the longest time.

**Author's Note, again: **Review, please. I can take a little constructive criticism, but that's about it. But review, I would love to hear your thoughts and opinions. They, of course, deserve to be heard.


	2. Neck Cracks, Pulsing Toes and Persuasion

**Author's Note: **Hi there, readers! Thanks to ALL the reviewers, at least the ones I see at the moment... : I'm sorry that I took such a long time with the second chapter, but I can promise you that the next one may very well be written and uploaded tomorrow! -laughs- I think I'm getting the hang of this, and I can guarantee that there will be humor in the chapters to come... -snorts- Yes, lots of it! If anything is confusing you, let me know. I'll be glad to clear anything up.

I was so excited when it came to uploading the chapter that I seem to have missed a few…grammatical errors, which I hope I have finally fixed. Don't hurt me if you find one :)

The Opera Ghost makes his appearance finally -Erik sighs, "Finally, indeed!"- , yet Katherine has not bumped into him...  
-looks around- Did I just say that? No, I didn't. You didn't hear me say it... Read the chapter instead. xD

* * *

WHEN KATHERINE SILENTLY CLOSED…

…the door behind her, she dared not let her eyes stray too far, for she had this inward fear that someone would rush up to her and say, "You don't belong here, be gone!". She often had to go through that type of rejection a lot when she came to a new place. No footsteps came, and she made sure the door was tightly closed, just in case.

Katherine turned to find the Entrance Hall seemingly deserted. She allowed her blue, silver green eyes drink in all that was before her. She wasn't at all surprised to find her mouth gaping open, slightly. The insides of the Opera House were still unfinished, but showed a lot of promise and potential.

'I could help out with that,' she thought decidedly. Setting down her suitcases, as if they burdened her from exploring, Katherine moved forward and a bit off to the left – where, on a wall, a few paintings caught her eye. They all depicted scenes from the various operas earlier put on in the House, including Hannibal. Even a burned painting was hanging – despite the burns, it still looked fairly fresh. It showed a female soloist with her arms open wide to the burned corner, as if she had invited the fire.

'Odd,' Katherine thought, touching the painting, 'very peculiar, actually.' As she traced the burned canvas with a lone finger, she couldn't help but wonder what had been in the corner that the soloist was so happily inviting.

A shadow of some sort, perhaps?

Katherine continued to explore the Entrance Hall until she had found that she was brave enough to go up the short staircase which led to the main parts of the House, as well as the not-so-main parts.

Despite how mesmerized Katherine seemed, as if walking in a dream, she had the reason in her to pick up her suitcases. Unbeknownst to her, a small notebook she used to write her ideas in slipped out from one of her patched yet very worn coat pockets.

And, just as she had not heard it slip out, she had not comprehended, either, that a shadow had stepped out of the depths of darkness and had picked the book up.

Though, just as Katherine had reached the third step, her ears pricked up for a second. She froze, thinking that, if she was not hallucinating, she could have sworn she had just heard the soft swish of a cloak. Turning quickly, she hoped to catch whatever intruder had been watching her, but she had frozen up for too long. The Entrance Hall was empty once again.

'I hope I'm not going mad, so quickly,' she mused.

Up the stairs Katherine went, observing the light marble steps and the unfinished railing – it obviously needed a few coats of paint.

'Which is something else I could help with,' she thought.

Just as she reached the landing, Katherine heard footsteps coming towards her. She gulped. Hopefully, there was still some miniscule space in the giant Opera House for one more creative soul…

"Hello," Katherine said, sounding more cheerful and louder than she had expected to. This greatly surprised her, as her stomach suddenly seemed to twist in a million knots, she hadn't expected to sound so confident.

Three figures turned around and approached. There were two men and one elderly woman, who, just by the look of her, was obviously a master ballerina, and a teacher.

"Good afternoon, Mademoiselle," said the taller man.

Katherine curtsied unsteadily, slightly losing her balance (author winks…ermm…again) and said, modestly, "Good afternoon." She faced the three adults. In comparison to them, she suddenly felt rather small, almost as a child, who still had very little wisdom.

The woman obviously noticed her nervousness. She put her hand on her shoulder kindly.

"I am Madame Giry," she said, introducing herself, "and these are the… managers of the Opera House, Monsieur Armand Moncharmin and Monsieur Firmin Richard." Madame Giry motioned to both as she named them, and they nodded, looking curiously at Katherine.

"You're probably wondering what someone like myself is doing her at the Opera at this time of day," she said, nodding at their confused expressions, "especially with suitcases in hand." She shrugged her shoulders to relax her arms a little.

"Yes," said Firmin, "this is a curious sight to see in the afternoon."

"I understand," smiled Katherine, "It's just that, ever since I've seen this beautifully restored building, I knew I had to be here, to learn, and put my God-given skills to the test." Her eyes twinkled shyly.

The managers smiled while Madame Giry frowned, with a small smirk playing at her pursed lips.

Katherine couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. Did they think she was a madwoman?

"I'm sorry," she said. Katherine frowned a bit as Madame Giry continued, "but the Opera has all the dancers and musicians needed for now, and there isn't time to teach any new students." She smiled warmly at the young woman.

Katherine's shoulders slumped dejectedly. She plowed through her mind to find an idea that could be persuasive enough for them to let her stay. Katherine didn't exactly have a place to go back to… Suddenly, an idea came to her mind as quickly as a bolt of lightning. What had she been pondering all this time as she explored the Entrance Hall? She raised her head, but she had done it a bit too quickly.

CRACK!-

"Augh!" Katherine's neck creaked angrily from such misuse, and her hands flung to her head.

At the same time, she managed to drop her suitcase right on M. Moncharmin's big toe.

"Oo-oof!" he yelled, jumping around like a grasshopper, trying to grab his foot and not stand on it in the same time.

Madame Giry moved towards both Katherine and Armand, soothing both the aching neck and purple toe.

When the commotion finally died down, Katherine was able to spill out the idea which seemed to pull such clumsiness out of her.

"As I was saying," she laughed, her nervousness slowly flowing back into her, "There are other things I am willing to do until perhaps there will be room and time to teach another…"

"Such as?" Moncharmin asked grumpily. Firmin hardly managed to suppress a… (What was that?) a giggle?

"I can work as an architect for both stage and off," she said, "You know, a painter, stage decorator…" her voice suddenly became quiet as she watched the managers mold over what she had just said. Madame Giry's eyes suddenly smiled. She picked up one of Katherine's suitcases, and, unconsciously, Katherine reached for the other.

Firmin turned to the elderly woman, asking, "I do not think that particular position is filled, is it?"

Madame Giry laughed. "Of course it is not, Monsieur." She turned to Katherine. "Let us find you a comfortable corner for you to stay in, shall we?" She began to walk down the hallway.

Katherine followed her, thanking every footstep she took farther into the Opera House that she had managed to make it, if at least this far. The managers stayed behind.

Turning to each other, Moncharmin asked breathlessly, "You don't suppose she'll break my toe next time, do you?" His toe was still pulsing and aching painfully.

Putting his arm around Moncharmin, Firmin replied, "I don't think so," he smiled, "but it shall be interesting."

With that, they went into their office to do something that would get Moncharmin's mind off of his toe.

Somewhere near, in the shadows above, a ghost clutching a tiny book in his gloved hand watched the now empty hallway.

"So," he whispered deeply, "she's come to live at my Opera House, has she?"

He looked down at the book in his hand. It was not titled, which he found curious. He stuck it into one of his many pockets.

With a swish of his cloak – he cursed at the miniscule noise that had almost uncovered his hiding spot- the ghost was gone.

**The Second Author's Note: **Well well, another ...cliffhanger. -grins- Perhaps they'll disappear.. if you review! xD  
Goodnight. -Author bows, yawns, and waves. -


	3. What is in the Notebook?

**Author's Note: **Finally, Chapter Three is here! Don't hurt me, don't hurt me. I tell you now that this is the second and final draft for the chapter. There was a first, but it was really off-point. So I had to have another go at this Chapter. At first I thought I had been plagued with Writer's Block (at the obviously wrong time), but I seem to have broken through it. The Chapter wouldn't be up if I hadn't.

I must say Thank-You to all of my reviewers for the last chapter... how about personal thanks?

**Miss Michelle**: Michelle, I'm glad you like it. I'll make sure you'll know of this chapter before I write the next one.  
**weaslygurl4**: Keri! It's a good thing that you can understand it even if you haven't read the book. I have to tell you though, you may have to read it eventually. Or very soon, for that matter. xP  
**Galasriniel**: I wonder if you'll consider the ending to this Chapter a cliffhanger... if it is, it's a very minor one. I did try to fight the power, I did. -  
**atheshar**: You've caught on! gives you a rose with a white ribbon We'll see how he handles it. ;)  
**Misty Breyer**: I'm glad you're interested. There's no way I won't continue. D  
**AmandaTheVampireLove: **_I've updated!_ Sorry if it seemed like it was a long time... only a day, but... I couldn't get my thoughts in order yesterday. I think this Chapter's much better than it's first draft. If you read that, you'd think I fell on my head. ponders Can I eat the s'more instead? xP  
**oMAo: **I'm glad you like the humor. I think it runs in the family:)  
**Grace (E.L)** : I'm glad you like it. You must know that the fact that you recently asked me if I was writing anything inspired me to write this fanfiction. -

And a big thanks and -sends virtual hug- to all my reviewers for the first Chapter who I did not manage to Thank personally previously. If you keep reading, you're bound to get a special thank-you spot! ♥

Now... onto the Chapter. Quite a few things are revealed... Enjoy!

* * *

KATHERINE AWOKE… 

the next morning, dazed from a night riddled with dreams of mysteriously long corridors that seemed to lead to the center of the earth, and a certain purple toe. She did not manage, at first, to register where exactly she was. It only took a second, and, rubbing her eyes, she blamed her confusion on the busy afternoon she had the day before, which probably also contributed to the unexplainably odd dreams.

Her sleepiness seemed to act, as a cloud over her eyes, and all Katherine wanted to do was pull up the bed covers and sleep the day away as she often did on weekends. The cloud, however, seemed to thin as the Parisian sunrise leaked softly into her room from a small bay window. It crept towards her silently, willing for her to get up out of bed, or else it would be forced to pull her out on its own.

Katherine sighed. No matter the hour, and no matter how much older she got, getting out of bed in the morning was a fighting matter. "I forfeit," she muttered, kicking of the covers. The soft tick of an almost ancient family heirloom – a pocket clock that was sitting comfortably on the desk across the room- prompted her to check the hour. 'It's not that late,' she thought, 'I could still sneak into bed.'

But no – the sun was rising, and the warmth had already gone out from the bed covers. There was no other option but to start the day.

Katherine went over to the foot of the bed and reached for the two poor suitcases she hadn't even bothered to unpack, except to find her nightgown, and threw them on the bed. Opening them required more than two fingers, but it hardly seemed difficult to her anymore. She placed all the squeezed in clothing on the bed, and chose something warm enough to wear and work in. Today the managers and Madame Giry would meet with her to discuss the scene painting plans and et cetera. That, however, wasn't supposed to happen until exactly noon. There were hours until then, and Katherine couldn't decide how to spend her morning. Sitting by the bay window, she noticed that the Opera House had a small garden surrounding the far side of the building. She hadn't known the House had any gardens, let alone a small one.

'There we go,' she whispered, 'a perfect way to spend a morning.' Katherine slid over to the desk chair and grabbed her coat. Despite the welcoming sunlight, it was stilling winter, but not enough to mean that it was no longer it cold. As she clasped the last button of her coat shut, her hand went naturally into her coat pocket. A look of utter astonishment found itself plastered on Katherine's face as she patted all sides of the pocket, and then the other. Something very valuable was missing from her possession.

"Where is my notebook!"

Katherine's shocked whispered traveled down through the floorboards, through the next few floors, past the Opera's auditorium, to the very catacombs of the Opera, where it reached the lair of an, at the moment, very amused Opera Ghost.

There the Phantom sat, amongst many candles, music sheets, and his Organ. He leaned back on his black couch, and curiously stroked the small book he was holding in his palm. He opened it to the first page and saw that the first page was dog-eared and covered in delicate, careful script. It read,

"The Personal Thoughts, Poetry, Ideas, Dreams, and Life of:

(At the moment) Mademoiselle Katherine Leroux."

Intrigued, the Ghost flipped to the next page to see that the first ten pages contained the young woman's biography, but he only scanned through that. There was nothing about learning architecture or design of the Opera, and only that at the moment was what he was after.

'Is she as talented as she says she is?' he wondered.

His eyes stopped on a page that was so dog-eared, it was obvious that she had returned to it often.

"I cannot sing as well as I would hope to, but I enjoy it nonetheless. I was never able to take lessons, in accordance to family circumstances, but no matter. I cannot dance, either. If it wasn't for my minor yet stiffening flaw, I am sure that would all be different. If only people would stop asking me as to why I walk on my toes…"

He paused. 'A flaw?'

When he had first seen the young woman enter the Opera, he was sure that she would be just another one of those chorus girls hoping for fame. And with the girl speaking so fondly of her "talents", he had expected that the she would resemble something of a female-fop. He had seen them often enough during his journeys around the world. Yet, it was odd for him to jump to such conclusions.

He continued to read,

"When I finally force myself to go to the Opera – for I just know that something truly remarkable will happen (though I'm no psychic), I want to explore as much as I can. I want to work hard enough to accomplish the things no one ever thought I would be able to do. I owe it to myself…"

He stopped. He hadn't exactly decided to rebuild the Opera House for the soul purpose of letting anyone assist him in doing it. And yet, he mused, perhaps this Katherine deserved a chance.

Closing the book, he decided that he would not return it – just yet. After all, he had reason to keep it. The girl had taken one of his most valuable positions, so he had her most valuable possession. It made sense.

Getting up, he decided that he would see what the other Opera House inhabitants were up to.

Katherine had not gone to the Garden. She had spent the entire morning searching for her notebook. She had molded through every single coat, blouse, dress, or pants pocket. She had searched every compartment of both suitcases, under the bed, under the rugs, even in the desk compartments despite the fact she knew they were empty. She had even checked her boots.

The notebook was nowhere to be seen.

Katherine tried to catch the exact moment the book could have fallen out of her pocket. Suddenly, something clicked. When she had gone up the stairs of the Entrance Hall…

'That's it! That's the exact moment!'

But she remembered turning around, and there was nothing lying on the floor. Someone had obviously taken it. _'Stolen it.'_

She sat on her bed, rubbing her temples, nearly worried out of her wits. In spite of it all, she checked her pocket clock. It was almost noon!

She couldn't look for it now, she would have to, later. There was no way she would miss her first important scene-painting assignment.

With that, she took off in the direction of the auditorium.

It was exactly noon when she reached the auditorium. She found Madame Giry and Monsieur Firmin standing in front of a large white sheet. Around them were many cans of different colored paint. Quickly muttering a hello, M. Firmin stated that M. Moncharmin had stayed home because of a "terrible headache".

Katherine saw when she looked up, that the sheet was already outlined with a forest-like scene.

"We figured you would like a guideline for the first scene," said Firmin.

"That is very generous, sir." Katherine smiled, looking at the large sketch.

"Along with that," said Madame Giry, "here is a description of what the scene looks like. Don't forget to use your imagination." She handed over a sheet of paper with a few main points, the setting, and what the feel of the scene was supposed to be like.

They both patted on Katherine's back, and said a "Good luck." Katherine nodded, slightly apprehensive.

M. Firmin turned around, before getting off of the stage, and said, "You have about a week to finish this scene. You can do it in portions if it would be more useful."

"Thank you, sir." Katherine said, nodding.

Katherine grabbed the ladder she had seen near the stairs and brought it up to where the scene sketch was. Carefully, she adjusted the canvas so that it was straight. She stood back, and realized that the sketch needed a little fine-tuning. She grabbed a big paintbrush and went over to the can with black paint. With big strokes, she began to sketch in the foreground of the scene. It was a good thing that the ground around her was covered, for paint was dripping off of the brush.

From his Box in the audience, a shadow saw that the young woman was using overly large stokes that were somewhat unnecessary for such a scene.

'Oh, no,' he said, his nostrils fuming slightly, 'That is not how it's supposed to look.'

He made his way out of his box to get closer to the stage.

'This will simply _not_ do.'

**Second Author's Review: **There we go! evil laugh I must say that I do not know whether or not our great Gaston had any relatives by the name of Katherine...but, well, you'll see. It's all a part of the story! And what exactly is Katherine's flaw? You'll have to keep reading to find out! Don't forget to review... puppy dog eyes The next Chapter shall be up soon.

waves- Goodnight.


	4. Lots of Blue Paint, Clumsiness, and Ange...

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry this Chapter took me so long... I had quite a bit of trouble gathering my thoughts together, as well as the fact that I was being dragged out of the house constantly this weekend. This chapter would not be up if our plans had followed out... we're supposed to go to Barnes and Noble, but I knew I had to post Chapter Four first.. I don't see why I shall be this delayed in the future. I had a lot of things to consider, you see. You may or may not notice that this chapter is a bit short, and perhaps a bit off. The next Chapter shall pay off for it. I've got to tell you, the story is obviously still escalating, but it won't be long now until Katherine and our dear Ghost shall meet - truly meet, though they may not see each other . A lot of things must happen until then. You must be patient (and I thank you for your patience on waiting for this Chapter.  
-hands out candies and all sorts of sweet things- I owe you lots of gratitude.)

I must Thank my reviewers for all their reviews, as always. It seems that quite a few of you want personal thank-yous! Yay!Here we go.

**Carrie: **You were first to comment on the 3rd Chapter! Yay! I'm glad you really really like it. The fact that it feels like published work to you makes it all the more enjoyable to write. And it makes me feel special. XD

**AmandaTheVampireLove:** Thanks so much for reviewing again. You must thank Erik for not biting off my hair... He deserves many more s'mores for that! -shares pack given with Erik- I have updated, though even I admit it took me a hell of a long time. You see, I had stuck not only the readers, but myself into a wonderful cliffhanger that I couldn't figure out. pouts

**oMAo: **Glad you like it! Anticipation is key!

**Atheshar: **I'm making you ask too many questions? You seem to be answering them for yourself! (You'll see.) How is it that you can do that? -ponders- Anyway, I think this chapter and the following ones will answer your biting questions. And, as always, for knowing, -hands you a rose with a white ribbon-.

**Grace (E.L.):** I don't think he's fixed his demeanor yet. It may take a while. Your welcome, and thank you! x)

**Pleading Eyes:** Yes yes, that was one of my favorite parts to write. You shall not figure out her true flaw (though one of them _is _clumsiness -cough-), not yet.

♥

There you go! Now onto the Chapter! -draws curtain-

* * *

KATHERINE SEEMED TO HIT...

...a fountain of inspiration. Back and forth she went, "sketching" in the foreground, from the tree trunks to the cobbled stone trail, and bushes hiding in the distance, trying to catch all the different details the sheet of paper had described, and also some she had thought of on her own.

Humming happily at her work, Katherine stepped up on the fourth step of the ladder she had earlier used to fix the canvas. Despite the fact she was not up high at all, the ladder tethered dangerously underneath the unaccustomed weight she had put on it, as well as the bucket of blue paint she had brought up with her. She looked at the canvas for a while, and decided to use a robin-colored blue for the sky surrounding the trees. Carefully, she mixed the small tube of white with the bucket of blue.

Just as she took the brush from the bucket and moved up one more step to reach better, a booming voice enveloped the air around her. Obviously, she was not alone. And the voice was coming from the other side of the canvas.

"Have you ever **_seen_ **a cobbled forest trail on a summer day? For it seems that you haven't. You are doing it all wrong!" The voice pierced the quiet around them.

Katherine jolted with fright. "Who's there," she asked cautiously, "and how do you know I am doing it _all wrong,_ as you say?"

The mysterious voice laughed. "Before I came here, I had the joy of being outdoors. I cherished those days. I cannot stand to see them painted with such vigorous, big, and thick strokes. It does not work!"

"Well," Katherine began, but suddenly the ladder shook under her. It was too old for such usage. Looking down at the step, she saw that it had gone through quite a bit of wood eating bug damage.

The voice continued to ramble on, "The cobbled road goes off to the left, do you not see? The small brush by the road is obviously too big, and the brush you are using is too thick…. And,"

Katherine could feel the ladder buckling under her. She struggled to keep the thing in balance, fighting gravity and trying to move with the ladder. In desperation, she tried to grab onto the canvas as to steady her, but instead of that, it began to fold under.

"Oh boy," she muttered.

The fuming and rambling stranger on the other side of the curtain did not seem to notice what was happening in the slightest. He did not see through the thin canvas that Katherine, a big bucket of paint, and the painted canvas itself was coming straight towards him.

"Whoa," said Katherine, trying to hold onto the ladder. It had seemed to be the best option at the time. "Whoa!"

It was only then that the Ghost of the Opera looked up from his talking.

With a crash spectacular enough to rival the very fall of the chandelier, Katherine landed someone softly on – she felt the ground around her- a person. The person who was earlier insulting her of not painting right. Somehow, both managed to find themselves blanketed in the canvas. Only the Ghost was underneath.

The Phantom pushed the girl off of him angrily, and, try as he might, he could not lift the canvas. Even though it was thin, it was heavy.

'How is that possible?' he thought for the moment. Getting to his knees, he looked to the floor to find his mask – not crushed, not broken, not scratched; but it _was_ off of its resting-place.

He grabbed it quickly and replaced it, sitting up at the same time.

He froze for a moment, and slowly took his hand off of the mask, which did not fall off again.

Almost in horror, the Ghost looked at his hand. It was covered in blue paint. He looked at the rest of himself, at least what he could see. He was covered from head to foot in paint.

Just sitting there, he could feel his blood boiling even more viciously than before.

On the other side of the canvas, Katherine was struggling to sit up. She tried to pry herself off of the floor, but with all of the wind blown out of her at the fall, she felt like the had been turned into a pancake, meant to stick to the Stage floor for all eternity. She saw that she was covered in paint, and she could not move the canvas, which was above and around her.

"DAMN YOU!" She heard someone yell. "CURSE YOU!" Suddenly the figure moved underneath the white blanket. "I TOLD you it was all wrong!"

Katherine scrambled up and tried to lift the canvas as to see whose the voice was. It was such a deep voice… almost familiar in a way.

"There's no reason to be angry… I'm an awfully clumsy person!" She answered back.

"I think I figured that out, my dear." The voice growled. "You are lucky it did not break."

"What didn't break?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"...It's made of porcelain..." he whispered. The shook his head roughly.

"Perhaps it'd be safer if you did it complete piece by piece, on an easel," he said, "I do not understand why women don't use common sense and take precautions." He moved farther away from the center of the canvas, trying to find a way out.

"Maybe if you hadn't frightened me, I wouldn't fall!" She tried to move closer to the figure. She noticed that a particular corner of the canvas was being picked at and went after it. There was light coming from that end.

"I'm sorry," said the voice, "I have a habit of lurking in the shadows.

As she ran to it, and peeked out from under it, she saw a figure with a black cape, covered in blue paint, running from the scene. The figure looked back for a moment, and she saw that it had a mask, with the most peculiar design…

"I hope you're happy," she yelled at him, "Now I have to do it all over again!"

"Practice makes perfect," he whispered, disappearing into a long corridor.

Katherine slumped, and walked out from under the canvas. She was right. She did have to do it all over again.

And yet, she did not want to start over. Instead, she wanted to follow the Ghost with the mask.

But she could not – for, at the moment the thought hadcome toher mind, the Auditorium door burst forth to reveal the two figures that had left her only half an hour before. Looks of shock and horror were plastered on their faces.

Madame Giry ran up the stairs, "What happened?" she asked, staring at Katherine, covered in blue paint, and her eyes moved to the canvas laying face down on the floor, and a mass of blue footprints that seemed to lead away from the scene. "Oh, no," She whispered, breathing sharply.

**Second Author's Note: **Thoughts and opinions, please? Reviews, reviews! As always. You shall not wait too long for an update. In fact, I'll write it as soon as I get back from wherever it is I'm going! Your words count, and they also mean a lot to me!

Goodnight. Cheers.


	5. They'll Never Tell

**Author's Note: **Hallo there! There's going to be two chapters up today... yes, you did hear me correctly. This one's a bit more _informative_ that I had hoped for, so I figured you, my readers, deserve more than just an informative chapter. Besides... well, only I know what I'm talking about, but if I don't keep it going, I'll never get to ... _what will happen in Chapter Seven_. XD So I'm moving it along just a little bit faster.

Reviewers, here are your personal thanks!

**Theresa: **Well, Katherine hasn't entirely met him just yet. I hope you like this chapter, the next, and the ones following!

**oMAo:** I'm still writing... I don't think I'll ever stop, actually.

**MiChEllE: **You can't wait to find out what happens next, eh? Well... you shall find out in this chapter. Thanks for believing in me, I appreciate it a lot. Makes me want to write even more (which is beneficial to this story, right? XD).

**atheshar: **Your reviews always make me laugh. You do not think things are going well between them? -laughs- Yes well, that is the whole point! However, I don't think it will be problematic, not at all. You shall see... -hands you another rose with a white ribbon- Oh, I don't see any paint on this one. Though perhaps it would look nicer? -holds out a paint bucket-

**WriterofWill: **You can't just review on the first chapter, you just can't! Hope you read the ones following it soon. xD

♥

Onto the chapter... the next shall be up in just a little while. -soft music-

* * *

A FULL WEEK… 

Had passed since the destruction of her first scene. Katherine was, a the moment, sitting comfortably in an audience chair, observing all that was going on in front of her on the stage. The singers were patiently singing their scales while the dancers stretched with all of their might. The Orchestra played flawlessly to the melody off all of the practicing – much to the Maestro's liking, and Katherine's, of course.

Her freshly painted scene stuck out from all of the commotion, and Katherine eyed it with a sigh of accomplishment. She had spent the beginning of the week outside of the city to sketch, thus taking some of the masked man's advice. She took her time on it, and painted into all hours of the night.

Madame Giry, M. Firmin, and the cured M. Moncharmin very much liked the finished work, and, as they stood on the stage, observing it with wonder, Katherine remembered the matter she intended to speak to them about, today.

She removed a piece of curious parchment from her pocket, and, reading it again, the groggy and early hours of the new day came to her, as if they were called from the parchment itself.

She had just finished the scene the night before. Tired, hungry, but confident, she cleaned up her supplies (to avoid anymore paint-related problems) with a yawn. As she did so, she heard a soft fluttering noise and looked up to see an almost weightless object floating at her from the rafters above the stage.

It was a letter!

Katherine went to it, forgetting all of the earlier suspicions she had that evening of not being alone in the Theatre, for, she had heard and turned to stare at every little noise that she heard. You could say, since the incident the week before, she was careful, and perhaps a bit paranoid.

Careful not to spill any of the paint she was lugging in her other arm, she saw that the letter was sealed with a crimson wax in the shape of a skull.

Quietly, she put the paint bucket down, sat on it (no, the lid did not cave in, XD), and unfolded the letter. It was covered in crimson ink –to match the seal- and was written with a short sort of script. It read:

' Mademoiselle Katherine,'

She paused. The writer knew her name? 'No wonder I'm paranoid,' she thought.

'I am pleased with your work with this scene, though I can see, without a shadow of a doubt that you did not listen to any of my advice. I do hope that you see that this – what you have just finished – is much more of a masterpiece than those very abstract and unfitting scribbles – which I had the pleasure of seeing… up close – you began with. After all, Rome was not built in a day, and, when I saw what you were doing in the very beginning – it had seemed as if you sought to prove the world wrong.

I must ask, however, how it is possible to wash that mortifying blue paint off of anything porcelain. There must be an antidote.' -O.G.

Now, as Katherine approached the stage where the Managers and the Madame were still looking at her scene, she knew that she had no choice but to inquire the three of the matter. They made no mention of much of anything when they had stormed through the doors a week before. Katherine recalled how M. Firmin and Madame Giry had simply called servants to clean up, and had moved off to the side to whisper to each other. All Katherine was able to catch were the words, "He's back," and "…we must not bother him." The only full sentence her ears seemed to strain for were Madame Giry's words, "You cannot capture him, he did, after all, rebuild the Opera and reinstate you in your managing position."

Then, Madame Giry had suddenly turned and the talking ceased. Katherine was told that it ' was getting late', and she 'could start again tomorrow.'

Now they could not keep anything from her – she would not let them.

"So," she said, catching their gaze, "Do you like it?"

M. Moncharmin beamed, "Oh yes, it's wonderful!" He had seemed to forget, at that moment, that under shoe and sock, his toe was still faintly bruised, but it obviously didn't hurt anymore.

M. Firmin nodded in agreement. "This is exquisite work."

Madame Giry would have nodded or agreed if she hadn't already seen the envelope Katherine was holding carefully in her hand.

"He has written to you, 'as he?" she asked earnestly. She extended her arm out, as if to see it. Katherine handed it over and spoke to the managers while the Madame read.

"I would like to know who this man is," she said, "for not only has he written this letter to me, but he is also the man," she turned to Madame Giry as she said this, "who I happened to almost flatten last week."

Madame Giry looked up and said, "He is the unknown benefactor that all of the papers were talking about."

Moncharmin nodded, "He was also the same one who burned it to bits."

M. Firmin then said, "We do not know much more."

'That doesn't help at all,' thought Katherine with a sigh.

The subject had then changed – Katherine could not manage to get them to clear anything else up for her, though she did repeat glorious amounts of "But, but…"- And she was sent to work for her next scene while the first one dried by the back of the stage.

* * *

**Second Author's Note: **They are not saying anything... Will Katherine be able to contain her curiousity? Our dear Phantom has quite a sense of humor... Read and review if you don't see the next Chapter up yet! x) Though you know, I would really prefer if you reviewed both this one _and_ the next. -sticks out lip and puts on puppy dog face- Though I may want it to be up tonight, I may not manage without some...encouragement. 


	6. A Fall behind the Velvet Curtain

**Author's Note: **After a very long wait (I know it was a very long wait... I'm deeply, deeply sorry!) Chapter Six is up! It wasn't exactly... writer's block or anything. I just didn't have an initiative to write, until I read all of your wonderful reviews! I hope you like this chapter... I hope you really, really do.

Personal thanks, as always to those who review!-sad face-I understand Chapter Five was not the most interesting, but your reviews keep me going:)

**atheshar: **You, as always, my friend, make me smile. Your review helped me write this chapter. If you review each and every chapter, there should be no doubt that I _won't _update faster. You always have so many questions, and I love that. Our dear Phantom's note was the main point of that particular chapter. Laughing out loud is permitted, you know. Who will Katherine turn to, you ask? I think you may have guessed it again (to an extent). -hands you just another, yetnot so ordinary rose with a white ribbon- Chapter Six is posted. Enjoy it!

**MiChEllE: **You don't have much patience, do you, Michelle? Don't worry, I don't mind at all. The chapter's up, so as soon as you read it, you can pester me about the next one.

**Swiech: **Don't talk about the other fic -presses her hand to your mouth-. That thing was a disaster, something that I never should have thought of, don't say a word about it. It must not be mentioned! XD Thanks for the interesting conversation there, it made me laugh. I did almost get in trouble because of it! x) Fan Girls, you say? Oh my, I don't think I can stand it.  
-bows

♥

And now, Readers, I present to you -extends hands- Chapter Six.

* * *

REHEARSALS WERE…

still ongoing as Katherine began her next scene. It was to be a quiet corner of a forest near a pond. She smiled, for, as she had her day out of the city, she had spent quite a few hours simply roaming; her imagination had been, one could say, opened up to such an extent that she had no problem visualizing the scene.

As she looked at the canvas, she could almost smell the drying bark with the sun shining through the trees onto the small pond. She could almost hear the squawk of geese from the faraway bank.

The sudden sound of the orchestra tuning up brought her back to her senses, where she still stood in front of the canvas. She noticed that the laughing corps de ballet, who, as they began to prepare, gawked at Katherine, replaced the squawking geese Katherine had been imagining. They whispered to one another as they stretched, making Katherine uncomfortable. She decided to paint on the other side of the hanging canvas.

As she did so, she noticed that the dancers were working on a rather complicated series of steps, with an enormously catchy beat. No matter how hard she tried to concentrate, she could not ignore the fact her foot was bouncing up and down, matching with the almost silent beat of the orchestra drum. She peeked out from behind the canvas and surveyed the steps, suddenly determined.

Biting on her inner cheek, looking in all directions as to make sure no one was watching, Katherine began to mirror the moves of the dancers, thumping and stepping from one foot to the other. She struggled to watch her feet, but, slowly, as if hypnotized, she started to move to the far end of the canvas and toward the large velvet curtain which surrounded the stage. Her steps and thumps were becoming louder and louder as she caught on… a bit too loud, in fact.

She did not seem to notice exactly how much noise she was making. The orchestra had ceased their playing, the dancers stopped dancing, and all became quiet except for the unusual and eerily loud noise coming from behind "the artist girl's" canvas.

Through the holes in the floor, the Opera ghost, with his hands over his ears, and an already aching head surveyed Katherine thumping about like an extremely intoxicated hobbit. It did not make any sense to him how exactly the woman was making so much noise with her small feet.

Jumping up through a nearby trap door, the Ghost hid within the curtain as Katherine approached, still thumping away. He waited, silently, and, just as he had suspected, the young woman thumped one last time on her right leg (author coughs), lost her footing, and fell, into the curtain, where the Ghost managed to catch her.

As Katherine inhaled deeply, the Ghost fought to somewhat delicately put his hand over her mouth. No doubt had she been frightened again, but screaming would not help out in her current situation.

Making sure she said no more, he whispered into her ear hastily, "Mademoiselle, what you were doing was not dancing, though it did sound much like an impersonation of an African safari!"

They sat there as the corps de ballet rounded the corner of the canvas, looking around with confused looks on their faces. It must have been quite a scene to them, to hear this mysterious noise and suddenly find that the "artist girl" had disappeared. They were all sure Katherine had just been there.

If she hadn't managed to fall and hide in the curtain, she would have been humiliated at the moment, the corps de ballet would never let her live down the little jig she had just performed.

Eventually, the noise died down and the bewildered maestro decided that rehearsals be finished early for fear of the sorts of things that were said to happen at time when things got mysterious. As the last person exited the auditorium, the Ghost took his hand off of Katherine's mouth and helped her up.

Turning to him, without a hint of fright in her voice though his porcelain mask glowed somewhat threateningly, she asked, "Who are you?"

Her eyes stared back at him, full of mystery and curiosity. The Ghost could not help but wonder what else could be found behind those eyes. He squeezed her hand, not noticing he was still holding it, and looked down.

Letting go, he laughed and said, "Simply a shadow, and nothing more."

Now Katherine laughed, and asked, "Are you sure? A shadow isn't usually so," she poked him slightly,

"solid."

"Hm," said the Ghost, thinking, "well then, I suppose I'm not a shadow."

Katherine put her hand on her hip, and said, "So who are you, and why do I keep falling into you?"

"I don't know…" was his reply.

The Ghost silently took Katherine's hand again, and brought it up to his lips, delicately kissing it.

Suddenly, a noise came from what seemed to be very away, and she heard the already familiar voice of Madame Giry calling her name.

Katherine jumped, and pulled her hand out of the Phantom's. She peeked out from behind the curtain, and yelled, "I'm coming!"

When she turned back to look into the Masked Man's face, she found herself standing alone behind the velvet curtain.

**Second Author's Note: **-grin- Evil cliffy-hanger. Evil, evil. Can you stand the fact that Chapter Seven is yet to come? You must review, whether you can or whether you can't. -bows and runs off- Cheers.


	7. In the Darkness

**Author's Note: Here we are!** The long awaited, well-hoped-for **Chapter Seven**! Please note that the Chapter has three sections (do not ask me why), but all I know is I've been planning this Chapter since the very beginning. I must apologize if it so happens that I have used the word _softly_ too many times... I could not find a better word. You must understand that. :)

The Chapter is very long...which should please you all. I could even say it's a bit too long, or that it could have been split up into three seperate chapters, but... this could not be held in much longer. As I said, I've planned it since the beginning.

As always (I feel like I say that too much), I must Thank the wonderful reviewers... such a wonderful surprise, and an excellent reason for personal reviews, much more than the last chapter! XD -hugs reviewers-

**WriterOfWill:** Oh my, the cheer shall be interesting. I must say that FGOSM is the most interesting acronym and sounds even better when said. - Don't make the boys dance too much... -sweatdrops-

**atheshar: **Yes, I must say the Chapter was _unusually short_... I have a feeling this one will compensate for that. ;D About the hobbity-line, I was thinking on the lines of an elephant (since they make a lot of noise), but I then came to the conclusion that hobbits suited Katherine better. -shrug- Yes, I'm a LoTR fan, and have been for a while... sometimes it gets the better of me. XD Yes, our dear Phantom, he always has something clever to say. Although I have to tell you that he doesn't say much in this Chapter... The funny thing about the cliché is that I didn't even notice it. Isn't that interesting! Hmf. Then again, I have to play at Katherine's clumsiness. It's one of her 'trademarks'. :P Here's Chapter Seven. I hope you enjoy it... and, really, as your review seems to always brighten my day, -hands you another rose, but now the ribbon is half white, and half black- cough

**Theresa: **I think cliffhangers are my specialty. Enjoy Chapter Seven!

**Michelle: **Here's Chapter Seven, enjoy it. Unfortunately, I must tell you that the fic is PG-13, so there won't be any offspring. Unless of course, you are hinting at a sequel...

**Grace (E.L): **I love your reaction... I had to say it. I'm glad it was _that_ surprising. xP Mmf, needless to say, I think you may enjoy this chapter **very much**, if you enjoy the 'romance element.' -joins you in manical surprise- I think our dear Phantom is a bit more careful about who he punjabs, though.

**TheAngel'sMaggie: **Welcome, New Reader! I must say I was surprised to see a different name pop up amongst the reviews, but I am very glad. I do that all the time, catch a good story as it moves along (not from the very beginning), but I never thought it would happen to me! I also wonder what Gaston would think of his relative. Hopefully it is not too horrible... hehe! This chapter has just a smidget of humor... but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!

♦ ♥ ♦

Opens curtain slowly-

And now, ladies AND gentlemen, (-) Chapter Seven.

* * *

IT MUST HAVE BEEN…

some sort of sixth sense that had provoked Madame Giry to look for Katherine. As soon as she saw the maestro ushering everyone away from the Auditorium, she searched through the throng for the young woman's chestnut-colored head. When it was obvious she was not in the throng, Madame Giry approached the ever-faithful conductor for answers.

"Monsieur," she said, moving closer to the man, and shook his wrist for attention. She saw that his eyes were wandering wildly, he was obviously rather spooked.

"Monsieur," she said again, "Where is Mademoiselle Katherine?"

"Madame," he said, finally turning to her, "She's disappeared. She's gone, I say!" He tried very hard to hide the apprehension in his voice, but could not succeed.

"Gone where," asked Madame Giry, keeping composure, "disappeared how?"

"That is the point," the conductor said, nearly stomping his foot in fear and anger, "We do not _know_ where! She was behind her canvas one moment, painting. The next thing we knew, this thundering noise came from behind it, and when it ceased, she was gone!" Having said this in one breath, the conductor shook, trying to relax. Once he regained some composure, he went on to babble about how mysterious that had all been.

Madame Giry listened, for the moment, but, as she turned to face the Auditorium, she felt and odd feeling in her stomach, for it had bubbled unexpectedly. She walked somewhat quickly towards the doors and put her ear on the wood. She heard muffled voices, not actual dialogue.

She knew Katherine was still in the Auditorium.

Throwing the doors open, she yelled, "Katherine!"

The muffled voices had stopped, and, seeing Katherine peek out from behind the large velvet curtain, was only somewhat relieved. "Coming," the young woman had yelled.

As Katherine had turned round to face the man once more, she found herself standing alone. Needless to say, her shoulders drooped slightly as she absentmindedly ran her finger over her hand, the one the Ghost had just kissed. She considered her options. She could run through the corridors, which she was not yet accustomed to and search for the man, but she had already told Madame Giry she was coming. It would not do well to upset her…

"What are you doing!" came none other than the Madame's voice, who had pushed the curtain open to reveal the woman standing in one spot, running one hand over the other.

"Oh," Katherine jumped, surprised, "I was just, just…" she could not seem to think of a good enough answer, but then said, "just hiding."

"From what, pray tell?" the Madame asked, temper rising.

"I'm not sure," she replied, looking into the darkness on the other side of her. She knew the Shadow was not far away, for she felt him watching her.

Unfortunately, Madame Giry seemed to sense someone not far away, also. She took the young woman by the wrist, and said, "I do not know what you were doing, but I won't have any of it!" She dragged her out of the Auditorium. As soon as she closed the door, she turned to Katherine, who was looking rather innocently behind her, and said, less roughly, "I think it best you do not paint until tomorrow, or perhaps the next day." Madame Giry huffed, "It's getting late, off to bed with you."

"Madame," Katherine said, "It is hardly time for sleeping…"

"I don't need you walking about with your head in the clouds. I do not know what went on in there, and neither do I want to know, but I won't allow it. It must not happen again!"

"What must not…?" Katherine asked, genuinely curious.

"Off with you," Madame Giry interrupted, pushing Katherine towards the staircase, "Go on."

She did not take her eyes off her until she saw Katherine was far away enough from the Auditorium.

* * *

Katherine, on the other hand, wanted to do anything but go back into her room. She roamed the corridors around the Auditorium, but did not return there.

She walked around until she came to the Chapel, which she had only seen earlier in passing. Now having nothing better to do, she entered the small room and found it empty. A large stained window looked to her as she stood on the stairs, and she examined it willingly.

It was well crafted, and, as she touched it, she saw that it was smooth to the touch – which was not common in stained glass windows. It depicted an angel with long hair, whose wings spread out to the very corners of the glass.

She sat down near it. From far away, a voice came, softly singing, wrapping all around her. The voice was almost whispering, but she clearly heard the words as if they entered only her ears.

"At midnight when

I cannot help but speak aloud,

Of the things I cannot have,

In a voice that does not lie,

I realize,

You'll be happier with him, I know,

Whoever he may be…

For, what am I, but a wanderer?

Just a troubled Ghost,

A shadow that moves

Quieter than the wind,

With me, you can only

Run away from the world,

And forget everything.

With me, we can only disappear, silently…"

Slowly, the voice lulled her to sleep, blanketing her softly, protecting her from the coolness of the Chapel. She slept to what seemed to be a voice from heaven…

* * *

When she awoke, though it was not much later, the Chapel was encased in darkness, that is, except for one lone candle that had conveniently been placed near the door.

Rubbing her eyes, she walked over to the candle. She looked back at the stained glass window, where the angel no longer looked so innocent, but dark and night-like. She shrugged. She felt a slight tension on the shoulder she had found herself resting on.

'Napping in the window-frame of a Chapel isn't exactly the best idea,' she thought, massaging it.

All sleepiness had left her, as had the voice, which had earlier sung to her. As she opened the Chapel door, she wondered whom it was that had sung. Was it perhaps the masked man?

The corridors were completely deserted, and all was quiet except for Katherine's footsteps. She walked about aimlessly, not really paying attention to where she was going, nor looking to see where her feet were leading her.

She knew that it wasn't quite late, for thin strips of light could be visible from under doorframes, and she occasionally heard a few muffled voices on the other side of the wood. No one seemed to be bothered by her wandering despite the fact her footsteps made rather hollow noises on the floor.

Katherine turned many times, walked down through countless tunneling corridors, and simply kept on walking. She did not know what exactly she was looking for; perhaps it was her room, perhaps the staircase to the Auditorium; she was not sure. The far away echo of the song that had lulled her to sleep played over in her mind.

As she usually did – and as she got more and more lost, Katherine's steps got noisier. It was a surprise she did not wake any of the people who were hiding in their rooms from the darkness of the night.

Katherine took one more turn and entered a long corridor she could not see the end of. As she stepped into it, her candle blew out from a draft coming from the side she had just wandered from.

All was dark.

Katherine stopped. 'What shall I do now?' she whispered to no one in particular. She placed the candle down by the wall.

Her ears pricked up, as did her other senses, as she could not use her eyes in such darkness.

She walked slowly forward, and stopped again. She had heard a noise at the far end of the corridor. Struggling to make as little noise as possible, she walked toward the source of the noise. It sounded as is someone was shuffling from one wall of the corridor to the other.

As she approached, the shuffling stopped. Katherine, however, didn't.

"No matter how hard you try, I can still hear you," said a familiar voice.

Katherine followed the voice now, and, moving farther into the corridor, bumped into something very soft.

She found herself in the arms of a very strong man. For some reason, however, she was not frightened. She felt his breath by her forehead, slow, almost silent.

Neither of them said anything. Katherine pulled away slowly, and tried to identify the man.

Since she could not see, she chose to user her hands. She moved one hand to his, and felt that it was rough, as if it had worked many years. Her hands moved to his chest, which had been where she had bumped into him earlier. She felt his heartbeat slow and steady, and moved her hands farther up, slowly coming to his face.

She felt both sides of his face, covered and not. Slowly, she moved her hand to feel the Ghost's cheek, up to his eye, and forehead. Her hand stopped slowly on the porcelain, and, for a minute, she was afraid of what to do next. She even felt the Ghost tremble slightly.

The Ghost was, unlike Katherine, frozen. He was surprised, and in a very deep shock. No one had ever touched him like this. It stirred a feeling within him that he could not recognize. His heart burned and ached under the innocent touch of her hand. His breath quickened as she moved to the masked side of his face, but he did not stop her. Something inside of him desperately wanted to push her away and forbid her from removing it, but he simply stood, silent, quiet, and only slightly terrified.

She stopped on the porcelain mask, and felt its shape. The porcelain was as smooth as the stained glass window in the Chapel. Slowly and carefully, Katherine removed it, and handed it to the Phantom, who dropped it softly on the ground. Carefully, her fingers moved and caressed the poor skin, which had obviously not seen the light of day often enough to heal – Katherine felt that it could, if it was allowed to. She placed a thumb on his closed eyelid and slowly lowered her hands.

The Ghost was not at all a ghost, but a man, and just a man. Katherine placed her head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat, which was much quicker than before.

Suddenly, the Ghost found that he was able to move. Slowly, he raised his hands to the woman's head and let her hair dance through his fingers. It was soft, slightly curled, and not very long, but it was beautiful, nonetheless. He could tell, even in the dark.

Trembling, the Ghost placed a finger under her chin and raised it to him, but he found he could not see her face. He raised his hands, and softly searched, running his hands over her eyes, felt her cheeks burn under his touch. His fingers ran across her lips, and, almost instinctively, he raised her head with one hand, and lead his own lips to hers.

Katherine stiffened at first, surprised and frozen just as the Ghost had been moments before. But slowly, as his hand moved to her neck protectively, she let the fear melt from her, and kissed the Man back. She felt as if she had known him for very long, and had just returned to her long lost love. She couldn't understand the feelings the kiss had erupted within her. But, just for the moment, she did not care.

The kiss was innocent, careful, and yet passionate. As the Ghost's hands moved Katherine closer to him, her own went to his neck. For some reason, both found that even in the darkness, they felt safe in each other's arms.

As Katherine hugged him tightly, she felt that his cheek was wet. He wept silently, and she comforted him. She did not, after all, understand it just as he did. He ran his fingers through her hair and held her hand.

"This does not compensate for the fact you cannot dance," he whispered jokingly.

"Oh no?" Katherine laughed, and then asked, "So, who are you?"

He squeezed her hand, and replied, "My name is Erik."

He lowered himself to pick up his mask, and put it back into place. Taking her hand again, he led her down the many corridors she had come from, occasionally squeezing her hand to reassure her of his presence. They stopped at the first sign of light, and Katherine saw that at the far end of the corridor was the door to her room.

Once again, Erik kissed her hand.

"Goodnight, Mademoiselle," he said, moving into the shadows.

"Goodnight… Erik." She replied, walking into her room, not closing the door until she heard the last swoosh of his cape down the hall.

**Second Author's Note: **There you have it, Chapter Seven. Reviews, please, as always. What will happen now? ...(I almost want you to tell me... xD) You'll have to review to find out! And now, -yawns- I myself am off to bed. Cheers.


	8. The Chapter of Suspense

**Author's Note: **Oh, the Long, long, longlonglonglong awaited Chapter Eight is here... I'm horribly sorry for not updating sooner, but I'm sure you'll understand once you read my profile thing-er. If you don't, then I hope you come to understand in time. -bows- Forgive me for my absence.

I have to warn you all that you will hate me horribly for this chapter, and if you won't, then you have very, very kind hearts. If you haven't already noticed, the name of this chapter is _The Suspense Chapter_; it is meant to reel everyone back into the feel of the story (and not get too far if you need to refresh your memories. :D).

**I send thanks to everyone who reviewed, more specifically:**

**weasleygurl4: **Yes, I agree that the Chapter hit the romantic spot very well... but envy? Envy? It took me nearly six months to write up anything worth uploading... there shall be no more envy here. Enjoy the Chapter, and don't hate me for it.

**Grace (E.L.):** Sneak-Peaker! - I know you can't wait for the next Chapter, so I promise not to take another six months writing it. (With so many ideas in my head, I doubt I could do that). I'm glad Chapter Seven is your favorite, it is mine as well - since it was one of the best ideas I had from the start. I'm sure your Phantom will turn up soon enouugh! Or maybe he's lurking in the shadows, waiting to be found? -sweatdrops-

**TheAngel'sMaggie:** -hug- I'm glad you liked the Chapter so much. I'm just really sorry that it took me so long to update. -bows head- Writer's block stinks, you know.

**PleadingEyes: **I'm sorry that it took me so long - I doubt that I have battled such a horrible case of writer's block yet. I know that this Chapter will also end on an interesting note (a rather big cliffy it is, I must say), but I'm sure the next chapter won't take six months to write. I have returned, and to write is my goal... to put these two together, and to have everyone read it - to write a great story that people will love, that is the _whole _point. And since we all love our Erik so much... XD

**oMAo: **I'm glad, I'm so glad, that you were satisfied. -laughs slightly- Hope this Chapter won't be a disappointment, but rather a kick back into the story... it needs this suspense.

**carrie:** Never in the history of my writing have I left someone so speechless... I feel honored... Enjoy:D

**Forensic Photographer711:** Chapte Seven seems to be everyone's favorite. Sorry for taking so long to update!

**WriterofWill:** Oh, FGOSM. How I've missed you three. Writer, THANK YOU for getting me back in the spirit of writing this story... it all goes to you -hands you trophies, medals, roses, and champaigne.-! I've changed it a tad since you read the draft... hope it doesn't disappoint... although I am sorry it's short... But I have to get the Chapter up, you know. Maybe we'll write that story together soon? -hopes- Enjoy the chapter!

**Theresa: **Never until now did I think I was this good at cliffhangers. Haven't you fallen off your seat yet? With all these cliffies, I'm surprised you haven't.

**atheshar: **You know, I didn't realize the reasoning of Chapter Seven being lucky until you mentioned it. :) I smiled when you mentioned that you noticed the connection between the angel and the mask - I was wondering if anyone would... About the song, it is actually a real chorus of a song (from a Polish band), except for the fact that I tweaked it so it would fit more into something the Phantom would sing. The actual words are, translated, _"You'll be happier with him, much happier you'll be with him... what am I, but a wandering, anxious soul? With me you can only go into flowered fields_ (or some sort of nature-thing...) _ and forget everything." _It's actually one of my most favorite songs from the band, and it fit so well... the lead singer/songwriter himself has very soulful lyrics like that... I can't say I'm glad you almost cried but, it fills me with an honor I don't understand. That is one of the most powerful things you can do as a writer, touch someone, you know? ...Yes, the point of the unmasking was for him to not be angry with her, I think our Erik is working on that.. And about Madame Giry, I doubt she will go that far, but I suppose we will see? It's true that she's not very happy with the way things are turning out ..Sorry for the long await and the short chapter, but enjoy nonetheless! -hands six white roses, for the almost-six months of not updating- XD

**Countess Alana: **Hello, new reader? Sorry for not updating sooner... enjoy!

**deb: **Hi there, new reader! I must say, you had to wait a little less than everyone, but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy!

-breathes heavily- _And now..._ -cough- _I present to you, the Chapter of Suspense._ -pulls rope to pull up the curtain with difficulty-

* * *

NEARLY SIX MONTHS... 

had passed since the night she had fallen into the Masked Man, and Katherine had not seen Erik even once. She began to often wander the corridors at night, hoping to see him again, but she never bumped into anyone, except perhaps Madame Giry, who often scolded her for being out of bed so late. When Katherine didn't get caught, she always seemed to find her way back to her bedroom, which she found awfully disturbing.

Despite his eminent disappearance, the Phantom began to invade Katherine's dreams. His voice sang out with so much feeling that Katherine often woke up with her face stained with tears. She wondered whether or not his voice was just something that existed in her dreams, or if he was really singing to her. Whatever the case, the voice was gone once she awoke.

After so long of not seeing the Man in the mask, Katherine started to question his very existence. And yet, every time she thought of that kiss, and that face she had touched, she knew it had all been real.

Katherine's scene-painting talents had flourished since her "graceful" fall from the ladder so many months ago. Despite the absence of the Opera Ghost, the fire within Katherine began to burn stronger than ever. She was careful with each stroke of paint; so much that, despite the fact it took her longer to do, each scene came out more and more beautiful.

On an early evening sometime near the end of August, Katherine was sitting in her beloved window seat, surveying the world from above. She hummed a reminiscent melody of a song she could barely remember, and yet it brought her comfort.

For just an instant, Katherine could have sworn someone was whispering something from the other side of her bedroom door. She quieted herself instantly, and strained her ears as much as she could. And, although it was faint, she could still hear the whisper, but for some reason, it was moving down the hall.

Katherine raised her eyebrows slightly, thinking, "I can hear a voice, but no footsteps." She bit her lip slightly, "Is that even possible?"

Curious, she swung her legs down from the window seat and quietly slipped her feet into a pair of ballet-esque slippers that Madame Giry had given her some time ago, for no reason at all. Katherine moved towards her door, and opened it noiselessly. She could still faintly hear the whisper, at the edge of the hall. It was as if the voice was waiting for her, calling to her.

She closed the door without a snap, and decided to go down the other side of the hall, opposite from the side the voice was coming from.

"We shall meet again, Monsieur," she whispered with a smile.

**Second Author's Note: **-is still breathing heavily from writing so many reviews- Like I said, please don't kill me for the Chapter's shortness. It's really a to-fill-you-guys-in sort of Chapter... I'm sure Chapter Eight pt 2 (aka Chapter Nine) will be up within the next day or two. :) Please review, I love it when you do! I need to know that you guys are still alive and reading, because I'm alive and writing the next chapter as we speak. Cheers.


	9. Out to the Garden

**Author's Note**: I bet you guys weren't expecting this:D I'm sure some of you thought, "Oh no, another six month wait?" Well, if that's what you were indeed thinking, I'm sorry to disappoint you. I think you will like this Chapter, though.

First, the Thanks for all of you who reviewed Chapter Eight, despite it's shortness:

**Theresa T. - **Ah, Theresa! You're lucky. You get the first thanks in this Chapter - so hopefully you'll feel important enough that you won't mind the obvious cliffhanger. - You get to find out where Erik is now:P Sorry for making you wait.

**WriterOfWill:** Sorry for surprising you with that Chapter so much - you knew this one was coming, you did read it in a Scottish accent yesterday, remember? Maybe that'll help you with your cheer, I don't know. Don't think too long, though. Chapter 10 will be up in less than a week. O?

**oMAo**: I know this Chapter is just as suspenseful, but I don't think you'll have to be as anxious with this one... 

**Carrie: **I'm pretty sure this Chapter is longer... hehe ENJOY! I miss ya. XD

**atheshar:** I'm still alive! P I agree with you, Erik is much more careful with Katherine than he was with Christine. He doesn't want his heart broken. No one wants Erik's heart to be broken!

**oi-vey: **Reviews are good! Sorry for the shortness of the last Chapter, and I hope you like this one. Speaking of Gerard Butler icons, I have some nice, recent photos that I should post on Caleida. Don't hesitate to review the next chapters - there shouldn't be much of a long wait between this one and the next one, and then the following.

**HiddenOperaAngel:** Ouch, a flame! Well, sort of. Hehe, thanks for your review, new reader! The point of stories is the whole "interesting" factor. It has to be interesting, or else it's just bad. XP Anywho, about Erik, I know he isn't much of a softy in the book or the movie, but I think that his anger faded after Christine's kiss, even though she didn't choose him. I doubt he wants to be bitter and cruel all his life... he is more of a soulful character than anything else. About Madame Giry, she isn't very bitter anymore, because she knows something we don't! I'm glad you like Katherine! Enjoy the chapter... Don't hesitate to review.

**PhantomLover05 - **Cliffies seem to be one of my weaknesses. Hope this one's not as cliff-y. Enjoy, and don't forget to review!

** Lasiriyea -** Glad you love the story, thanks for your review. Hope you like this one. -tacklehug-

**karou-ken: **Hello, new reader! I'm glad you like the story, I updated as soon as I could. And don't worry, the next one is nearly half done.

_And now, ladies and (gentlemen? -sweatdrops-) ... I give you, Chapter Nine of Dreams of A Masked Phantom. Enjoy.

* * *

_

KATHERINE SMILED.

No matter how quiet Erik tried to be, her ears heard every swish of his cloak. Despite this, her ears were not tuned well enough to hear him mutter over and over about how he should find a way to prevent the cloak from swishing so. She did wonder, however, what was running through his head.

Erik, slightly preoccupied with his cloak, did not understand what was unfolding before him. He could do nothing more to follow Katherine, considering he had not expected her to walk in the other direction. She was, after all supposed to follow him.

'Did my voice lose its power,' He wondered solemnly, 'has it been too long?' He shrugged. He had no choice but to follow her. Curiosity had caught up with him, evidently.

Down the stairs they went, as the sun gleamed into nearby windows. The corridors began to twist and turn, but Katherine knew exactly where she was going. Six months was just enough time to memorize the corridors of the Opera house, considering also, the fact that Katherine had done most of her wandering at night.

Katherine finally made it to the main staircase leading outside of the Opera House. She heard Erik move off to the side, into the darkness. This puzzled her slightly. However, in about thirty-second's time, she completely understood why.

Madame Giry was making her way up the staircase. When she saw Katherine, she looked at her curiously. She spotted that Katherine was wearing the slippers she had given her, and smiled. Most of the suspicion that had welled up in the Madame disappeared as she saw the slippers. Instead of inquiring directly and harshly, Madame Giry spoke quite softly as she reached Katherine.

"Going for a walk?" she asked kindly. Katherine was surprised at the Madame's tone, but simply dismissed it as the summer heat. It had finally gotten to Madame Giry.

Katherine tried her best not to show her surprise. "Yes," she said, "out to the garden that's behind the Opera House."

Madame Giry sighed, with a slight far away look playing in her eyes. "Ah, yes," she said, "That is truly one beautiful garden. But isn't it a little late for such an adventure?"

"I think not," Katherine replied, "for the sun hasn't set just yet." Madame Giry smiled.

"The sunset looks quite beautiful from the garden," she said, "I wouldn't let you miss something that magnificent!" She placed a hand on Katherine's shoulder and smiled again, "Goodnight then, Katherine."

"Goodnight," Katherine replied, this time clearly noticing that the smile on Madame Giry's face did not completely refer to an anecdote, but it also showed that she knew something Katherine did not. For the moment, she wanted to ask what it was, but thought better of it.

'It has to be the heat,' Katherine thought, 'there's no other explanation for it!' She smiled.

* * *

Moving to the large doors of the Opera House, Katherine stopped. A hand reached out of the darkness just as she touched the handle. She looked at it, her eyes following the rest of the arm that the hand was evidently connected to. 

Katherine looked at the Ghost – the Ghost who had began to seem like just a dream... She only saw his eyes – his mask seemed obsolete compared to how his eyes blazed, how they stared into hers. His gaze pierced whatever walls she had built up in all of her years.

They did not speak. They did not move. Time and all aspects of it seemed to cease completely. Katherine once said, much later into her life than at that very moment, that it seemed as if centuries had passed between their gaze. Dreams and thoughts disappeared. It was only his gaze – it seemed to her like the only thing she had ever known.

Erik was also speechless. Unlike Katherine's thoughts, however, Erik's did not disappear. He searched for something to say, but couldn't think of one word. His heart was caught in his throat.

That was because neither of them had ever felt something so powerful.

A soft breeze enveloped them, and time again began to move. They did not notice that they had opened the door together. Katherine was the first to notice it. She looked over at it, and just as Erik began to open his mouth to say something.

Katherine only looked back into his eyes and whispered, "Sh," She took his hand and led him out into the world he had not seen for so long.

* * *

The sun had not set yet, but it was getting ready to. It had turned the darkest color of red it possibly could. It did not seem cruel to Erik as it had once. The sky itself was enveloped in a crimson color he had never seen, joined together with dark blues. In some sense, the sky itself had turned into a rainbow. 

Katherine, still holding Erik by the hand, led him around to the other side of the Opera House, where the garden was. There were few people on the streets, so he had no reason to hide from anyone. He was still too curious to care about much else but where Katherine was leading him.

It was a short walk to get to the other side of the Opera House. They reached the fence of the garden. It had a rather large padlock that required a key.

Katherine huffed slightly. She let go of Erik's hand and began looking for the key under various rocks by the fence. She searched and searched, but could not find one. She stood back up and looked at Erik, who was laughing slightly at her.

He put one hand into his cloak and pulled a key out of one of his many pockets. He handed it to her.

Katherine couldn't help but raise an eyebrow, but she didn't want to ask, at least not now. Her thoughts were set on doing something she had never done before.

She put the key into the padlock and struggled with the key. The padlock was very old and obviously required the correct number of turns in a sequence. No matter how she turned the key, the padlock wouldn't budge.

Finally, Erik came from behind her so he could have a turn. He did not look at her, but scrunched up his face, trying to remember the combination of turns. Suddenly, he began turning the key. Katherine paid attention to each and every turn.

First, the Ghost turned the key eight times to the right, then three to the left. Next, the key went around for more times to the left, another nine in the same direction, two to the right, and one to the left. Once he stopped, you could hear every little gear processing the sequence, making sure it was right. Katherine stared, surprised, listening to the jingling melody, until, finally, the padlock opened with a rather loud click.

"Heh," laughed Katherine, as Erik opened the fence and stepped aside for her to walk in. She waited until he had closed the fence again, and took his hand. She stood in place, though, and they looked at what the garden held.

* * *

**Second Author's Note: **-bows- Sorry for the Cliffy. There won't be much of a long wait for the next Chapter, as long as I'm not bombarded with homework and the like. Please let me know what you think! Review, review!

I'm off to finish Chapter 10. Cheers.


	10. Breaking the Silence

**Author's Note:**

Well, it's the first day of summer vacation! Hurrah And what am I doing? Taking a short break from cleaning and updating Dreams of a Masked Phantom. I finished this chapter not too long ago, and have since had such a plethora of ideas that I suspect I will bombard my readers with chapter upon chapter. But I doubt you guys will mind, considering the fact that I haven't updated since November... I suppose this summer will give you guys time to forgive me.

I noticed that now there's a reply function to reviews! This saddens me a bit, because I rather like thanking you all within the chapter, so I won't use the reply function unless it will help me inform you all of the next chapters...

And now, I send my gratitude out to my reviewers!

**Theresa**: You were my first reviewer this time! Thanks so much. I'm not sure if this Chapter gives that much insight on what is in the garden, but it's getting there! Enjoy!

**Lasiriyea: **I know the turning of the key-in-lock in the last chapter made your head hurt, but it's only a simple code (Don't reveal it to anyone, they will have to figure it out for themselves!) I send to you a plethora of tacklehugs. Enjoy this chapter.

**MiSS MiCHELLE ):** I hate to disappoint you, but there isn't any kissing in this chapter! I don't think I've seen the word "awesome" so many times in a review, though. So I thank you for that. Enjoy!

**PhantomLover05**: Your welcome, I'm updating again! And yes, there is also fluff in this chapter... and the next one, probably. Enjoy!

**oMAo**: It isn't as quiet in this chapter! There's some singing: Enjoy. LOVE!

**CiceroGuided**: Has there been a change of username:P Cicero, please enjoy this chapter. And your welcome for the explanation, it was my pleasure.

**A Heart Full of Sorrow: **a new reviewer! Welcome, welcome! Thank you for reading. And I'm glad your torture chamber isn't finished being built, I hope it is still in construction:P Enjoy!

**Kat:** Thanks for your review, Kat! huggle Time is like chocolate. I think you'll enjoy this chapter. Enjoy:

**Pleading Eyes:** I got you back! I was afraid I'd lost you forever! Thank you, thank you! Hope I haven't made you wait too long! Enjoy!

and finally, to **Vaidahi** and **blessed-love15**, who reviewed Chapter One, hope the summer gives you time to catch up! Please:P When you get to this chapter, I hope you enjoy it!

**To all of my past reviewers who missed Chapter 9**: If you're reading this, it means you caught up! Thanks for your past reviews! I won't disappoint you... :)

And now, bows I give you, Chapter Ten: _Breaking the Silence._

* * *

THERE WERE NO WORDS…

(nor are there any now) that could describe what the garden looked like. Katherine stood still for a moment, trying not to leave her mouth gaping.

"It's beautiful," she said finally.

Erik remained silent. He took Katherine's hand and led her down a narrow cobblestone path to a small clearing. In the clearing was a beautifully molded metal bench. Before he let her sit, Erik took off his cloak and laid it on the bench.

"Whose…" Katherine started, but was cut short by two fingers on her lips.

"Sh," said he, lifting his head towards the sky, causing Katherine to do the same. The sky had turned a dark orange with hints of blue and purple. The sun was slowly setting, and the stars had already started to twinkle. The few clouds that were still present surrounded the sun, bringing the blanket of darkness with them as they moved across the sky.

Katherine was in awe. The garden continued to shine magnificently in the fading light. Some of the flowers had sprung open, blooming in the coming moonlight. Their aroma filled the warm evening air.

She finally turned to Erik, who was now watching her intently. He put his hand on her cheek, and she looked up into his eyes.

"I should tell you," she began, but Erik shook his head, saying, "I should tell you…" He stopped for a moment, thinking of what he should say next.

Katherine stood up and walked away from the bench, leaving Erik a little surprised. Seeing that she had his attention, she began to sing.

"How long do I know you?

I myself don't even know…

And yet I feel bewitched by you,

Body and soul.

Something tells me

this is meant to happen,

And yet I'm scared, so scared,

Of what lays ahead…

And yet I'm glad, oh so glad,

And my heart smiles

At the sound of your voice."

Erik was silent for a moment. He looked at the woman that stood in front of him. How her beauty had matured since she had first arrived! And how the fading sunlight had managed to make her hair sparkle! Her eyes were in themselves a beauty to behold, he found himself speechless.

Katherine sat down by his side again. She turned towards him and asked, "Erik?"

"What is it?" he asked, surprised by the softness her voice gave out when she had said his name.

"Do you have faith?" she asked, "Do you believe?"

Erik thought for a moment. Did he have faith? He had had so many horrible moments in his life, things he wished he didn't have to remember, and yet…

"I was a lost lamb, once." He said, "But you…"

"What about me?" Katherine asked, smiling.

"You make me think of faith."

Katherine blushed slightly, and then looked towards the stars. She had never gotten that kind of compliment. She couldn't quite think of how to reply, so instead she leaned into the Masked Man, putting her head on his chest. He embraced her strongly, and stroked her hair gently. He realized that it was his turn to sing.

"Sleep, dear angel, sleep!

The stars will help me watch over you.

Close your eyes, dear girl, close them

I'll be right here….always."

He began to feel that Katherine was close to sleeping. He hugged her closer, and himself began to drift off. Just before, however, he heard her voice.

"Erik?"

"Hm?" he said sleepily.

"I've missed you," she replied.

And thus they rested in the Garden of Faithful Dreams.

**Second Author's Note:** That is all for now! We're still not out of the garden! Oh, it will be so good, so good! You will see! Just don't forget to review!


	11. A Butterfly's Blessing

**Author's Note: **Well, here it is. I stepped away from the story for about a month. Yesterday, out of complete curiousity, I opened up the file. Rereading it, I realized I did want to use it for Chapter Eleven, so here it is!

But first, Reviewer Thanks:

**MJ MOD** - Thanks for reading the story! Glad you like it.

**oMAo** - I'm glad you liked Chapter 10! This one's for you.

**Jack's Confession** - Glad you like the story! Enjoy, enjoy!

**Theresa** - maybe things like these DO happen in real life. Ask me about the butterfly part. You'll see what I mean.

To all my past reviewers - Thank you! You guys have some catching up to do. :D

And now, **Chapter Eleven.**

* * *

**THEY AWOKE…**

…with the rising of the sun.

"Oh!" said Katherine, surprised that they have been in the garden all night.

"Good morning," said Erik, smiling.

She rubbed her eyes childishly, and replied with a muffled "Morning."

"How about we take a walk around the garden? It is far more beautiful in the morning sun." said the Masked Man, standing and taking her hand.

As the sun moved overheard, it lit up each bed of flowers. They walked, hand in hand, smiling, looking at each other every once in a while. Erik proceeded to tell Katherine about the garden, how he and Madame Giry had started cultivating it, adding a new group of flowers every few months or years. She listened intently as Erik proceeded to point out each group of flowers that he had added, and she told him what they symbolized, if she recognized the flower.

"The first flowers I put in the garden were the baby's breath."

"Purity of the heart," said Katherine, squeezing his hand.

"Those heathers," he continued.

"When you felt lonely," she said, nodding.

They continued to walk, when Katherine noticed a patch of flowers that was wilting horribly.

'Begonias,' thought Katherine. Her heart swelled in sadness. 'Begonias symbolize dark thoughts and deformity,' she thought, not saying a word of it to Erik. She sympathized for the man whose hand she now held. 'Such a poor creature,' she thought.

Erik seemed to know which flowers had caught her attention. "Those begonias are wilting," he said, "but I have no reason to water them. They remind me of…" he stopped, and let go of Katherine's hand.

"Erik," Katherine said quietly, trying to reach for his hand again. His breath had quickened, and suddenly, he jumped into the patch of begonias and proceeded to rip out each and every flower, and every bulb and root that remained. Dirt flew everywhere, and when he was done, Erik was breathing heavily. Standing up, he walked up towards her again.

She couldn't help herself. Katherine started laughing. The Masked Man, usually so proper and serious, had just completely let his guard down. He was covered in dirt and what was left from the torn begonias. Katherine laughed so heartedly, that, Erik, first surprised at her reaction (but only slightly), quickly joined in. Her laugh was infectious. They laughed so hard that soon, they both found themselves crying with delight.

Clutching her stomach, Katherine sighed, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed."

Wiping the dirt off of his clothes, Erik said, "I don't blame you." He then smiled at her, and continued, "I haven't laughed that hard in a very long time."

"Neither have I," she replied.

* * *

The two spent a long while in the garden, walking about. They even passed by a small creek, where they relaxed for a while. Katherine dipped her toes into the creek, and watched the sun gleam through the leaves as Erik remained silent, watching her. She really was beautiful. Perhaps it seemed hard to notice in the day-to-day sense, but here, out in the garden, with the quiet atmosphere, she glowed with a beauty he had never seen before. 

"Look!" she whispered suddenly. She smiled at him and pointed to a big yellow butterfly floating through the garden. The creature seemed to come straight from the sunlight. It settled itself not too far from the pair, and Katherine silently walked towards it.

She watched the butterfly as it busied itself with a flower. It seemed to notice her presence, but was not threatened by it.

When Katherine was less than a foot away from it, she called to Erik, "Come here."

And, truly intrigued, he went to where she was, still observing the butterfly.

Slowly and carefully, Katherine put two fingers out near the left wing of the butterfly. As it fluttered, she felt each beat of the wing against her finger.

The wing of a butterfly, if you ever get to touch it, is unlike anything you've ever touched. It is so delicate that you fear to harm it, and yet so soft that you feel like you have been let in on a magnificent surprise. It is a wonder almost beyond words. It is something different, and something you will never forget.

Katherine took one of Erik's hands and removed its glove. "Here," she said, directing his hand in the direction of the butterfly. Soon, Erik too had felt the beat of the butterfly's wing against his skin. "What a wonder!" he thought, amazed.

And, just as Erik pulled his hand back, the butterfly lifted itself off of the flower and circled both him and Katherine. Katherine giggled softly, and Erik smiled. The butterfly floated away silently into a farther part of the garden.

Katherine turned to Erik, and, putting her hand on his chest, whispered, "We've been blessed!"

* * *

**Second Author's Note**: Hope you enjoyed! Please, don't forget to review! Adieu. 


End file.
